


A Really Bad Day

by lavenderlotion



Series: Ficlets for: nearly 200 writing prompts [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Peter Hale, Hugging, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “I just had a really bad day,” Stiles says again, though this time his voice is muffled into the soft skin of Peter’s neck.





	A Really Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syriala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/gifts).



Stiles is not having a great day. He is actually having a fairly terrible day. It all started when his alarm didn’t go off, and he didn't wake up until his Dad was getting ready for work. He hardly had any time to get dressed, let alone look at what clothing he was throwing on himself, and he only noticed the giant bloodstain on his shirt when he was in school.

He probably would have noticed it during the drive to school, only he  _ couldn't _ drive to school, because his Jeep had refused to start. The Jeep that he absolutely did not have money to bring into a shop. After that, his day just continued to go downhill--having to walk the half hour to school, tripping up the front steps and hurting his knee, Harris being a complete  _ dick _ , not bringing a lunch  _ or _ any cash, leaving him even hungrier than normal as he hadn’t eaten in the morning.

Then, he rushed his ass to Derek’s loft after school for the pack meeting _no one_ _told him_ was cancelled, with the only other person in the loft being Peter. God dammit. He can’t even leave--or, he _shouldn't_ leave, because some new creature just passed through the territory and none of them have any idea what it is.

“How are you, darling?” Peter calls out from the kitchen, and Stiles takes a long, deep breath, trying to push down his agitation. He’s not mad at Peter, at least not today.

“Fine,” Stiles snaps, all but throwing his backpack to the floor when all he wants to do is curl up in bed.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” Peter tells him, and Stiles knows him well enough to hear the smirk in his voice, the teasing edge his tone takes.

“I just had a bad day,” Stiles tells him, though he knows his voice sounds far whiner than he would like it to. Damn.

“Chin up, sweetheart,” Peter drawls, and seeing his smirk is enough to tip Stiles over the edge.

“Are you hitting on me?!” he demands in a shout, storming through the rest of the loft and into Peter’s personal space, jabbing his index finger into Peter’s--very defined--chest. He has no idea why he’s fixating on this, but suddenly he’s just so  _ done _ . “With the--with the  _ pet names _ and the  _ endearments _ and the constant staring at my ass! Ah! Don’t deny it Peter, I’ve seen you do it!

Peter blinks at him for several silent moments, leaving Stiles feeling like a complete idiot. He snatches his hand away from Peter’s chest, his throat getting tight with embarrassment as the weight of his entire day seems to crash down on him at once. Suddenly Stiles is fighting tears, his eyes stinging as his lower lip wobbles.

“Oh, darling,” Peter says, his voice unusually soft as he gathers Stiles into his arms.

Stiles slumps into the hug, letting Peter hold up all of his weight as his body seems to give up. He’s just so tired, and he’s had such a bad day. He wants to go home, to curl up in his bed and never leave. Peter continues to hold him without comment, nosing at Stiles’ temple and breathing him in. Stiles knows Peter doesn’t often get to physically interact with the pack, though Stiles tries his best to touch Peter every chance he gets.

Peter is rubbing his hand up and down Stiles’ back in large, warm sweeps of his palm, his other arm wrapped tight around Stiles’ waist and keeping him held upright. Stiles closes his eyes and gives himself time to calm down, to let his emotions settle as his mind stops racing. He’s always been tactile, and Peter is a  _ good _ hugger.

“I just had a really bad day,” Stiles says again, though this time his voice is muffled into the soft skin of Peter’s neck.

“How about we take a nap?” Peter suggests, his hand barely ghosting over the swell of Stiles’ ass on the stroke of his hand.

Stiles snorts, and he takes it as the answer that it is. “Sure, but no inappropriate touching, creeper-wolf. I expect at least dinner first.”

“Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re in for,” Peter says, his voice happier than Stiles has heard it before, and he smiles for the first time since he woke up late.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


End file.
